


Hope in the Wrong Hands

by orphan_account



Category: Sons of Anarchy
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Rape Recovery, Romance, Rough Sex, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Slash, Torture, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-23
Updated: 2014-05-05
Packaged: 2017-12-27 09:17:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 22,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/977073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The boy had come to him for comfort, clinging to what he thought he had left. And he had returned it with nothing but bitterness, unable to forgive his past actions. Now Chibs has been given a second chance, but will new trials bring them closer together or push them further apart? Picks up after the 5th season.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Rain

_"Carry me away from here and teach me to be strong_  
This is my own escape  
It's not where we were promised to be  
I'd rather light a candle than curse your darkness" 

Chapter One

After Clay had been dragged away by the cops Juice had returned to the clubhouse. When he walked in he was honestly surprised to see most of the members drinking and partying as usual.

He envied them, wishing that moving on could be so easy for him.

He didn't bother trying to talk to anyone, just shut himself up in the room he'd claimed as his own. After that became unbearably lonely he decided to seek out Chibs.

But now he was standing outside the club house, and looking into the eyes that made him regret nearly every decision he had ever made.

He glared at him. The amount of emotion coursing through his body made his head spin. He looked at a person he had trusted, and there was nothing but a cold hate left.

Because he was looking to the cold eyes of someone he had once considered a father figure, and was met with nothing but darkness. It made his heart ache, and his fists tremble at his sides.

"I know I fucked up man," He tried to calm down, but his heart beat thundered in his ears, "But atleast I came clean about it. I thought out of everyone, you would have understood." Chibs shook his head, breaking the eye contact that had nearly taken the breath from his lungs.

"You never came clean to me," The words were ice cold, "You should have told me about everything but you choose not to. I don't even want to look at you anymore laddie." And he wasn't. And maybe that was what hurt more. He was standing here, completely emotional and exposed, and all he wanted was for those comforting words to come back.

To be held like a child, and told that he would be fine, and that he was forgiven.

But all he received from Chibs was a look that told him he was so disappointed with him that things would never be the same. The same cold shoulder he felt from everyone now. Everyone except Jax, who only appreciated him because his debt made him useful.

It was so disappointing. That everything had turned out this way. He'd fought so hard to stay a part of this club because they were the only family he had. Now he was back in, but that warmth and family aspect was completely gone.

Almost made him feel like it wasn't worth it. He'd given up the only person that had still cared for him, for a group of people that would never get over the bad decisions he had made in the past.

Never.

"I had no fucking choice. I did what I did to protect the club. I never wanted to see anyone get hurt." He took one step forward, body blazing with frustration. Why would no one hear him out? Clay had told him almost everyone at that table had turned once. So why was he so different? Why was he so undeserving of forgiveness?

"You know when you kicked me out of Clay's house that night it was about the most painful thi-" Chib's stood up suddenly.

"I don't care! Caring bout your feelins was something I should ave never got involved in! You know why I did?" He took a step towards him, and Juice told one step back. He had not expected to be met with so much anger. In fact, he really didn't know what he had expected in this situation.

He'd tried so hard to bury that part of him that craved the support he'd received from Chibs before. But it was still deep inside him, practically begging for the understanding he knew the older man was capable of.

When did everything become so cold?

"I know you've got no family. I felt sorry for you. Tried to be there for you. But I gave you so many times to come clean to me. You chose not to. Did you really think no one would figure it out? That's exactly why you don't talk to the feds! Someone will always find out! I thought you were smarter than that?"

He hung his head. Face burning with shame, feeling hot tears stinging his eye. Because Chibs was right. He should have been smarter. But did he really have a choice? He struggled with that notion every waking moment of each day…he had never seen a way out…

"There was no way out for me," He yelled back at him, "So what ,since I don't have a loving family and kids I'm never going to be accepted again? You know Jax did the same damn thing and everyone acts like it never even happened!" The words just spilled out of his mouth, ugly, he knew, but he was so beyond being hurt. The betrayal was unbearable.

Suddenly his world began to spin. His felt the burning sting of Chib's fist colliding with his face and he was knocked to the ground. He fell on his shoulder, body crashing painfully unto the pavement. He cursed.

"Don't ye ever talk about our pres like that!" Chibs was standing over him, fist trembling at his side, eyes overwhelming full of hate. He looked up at him, and couldn't help but feel so helpless. Because all he wanted was that man who had comforted him so ago. He reached out to him. Only to be met with a harsh kick in his side.

"You're a fuckin traitor. That's somethin I'll never forget!" He spat in his face as the boy cringed from the pain now coursing through his side.

Something inside Juice snapped.

All those feelings of betrayal and pain, were just fuel for the flames. His felt like his heart was going to burst in his chest, and suddenly nothing mattered anymore. Adrenaline burned in his veins as he forced himself to his feet and lunged at Chibs.

The only thing he felt as his fist slammed into Chib's stomach, was anger. Anger at so many people. Because everyone he had ever put his faith in had proved they were not to be trusted.

Men. They did nothing but hurt him. His father had never even tried to be there for him. Clay had been the closest thing to a father he was ever going to have, and even he was no saint. Chibs, who had shown him so much love and care before, had completely shut him out.

It wasn't fair.

He felt the older man fighting back. So many emotions swarmed through his head as he tried to overpower him and beat all of his rage into the person in front of him.

He screamed at him. Words he wasn't even sure he truly understood, but he was sure they were horrible. Sure he was pushing himself farther into a hole he could never get out of. But at the moment that hardly mattered anymore.

Right now there was not a rational thought running through his head, just an intense desire to inflict pain similar to that of what he had been feeling all of this time.

"Don't you dare stand there and act like you're better than anyone!" He yelled at him, and swung his fist at his head. He missed though, underestimating how sharp his reflexes were.

For every blow he got in, Chibs hit him back harder, pushing him back. They continued like this for awhile. Exchanging blows, yelling at each other. Their voices cutting through the silence of the night around them.

He would never understand how it came to be like this. The mere thought of it almost brought tears to his eyes. Because it was never supposed to turn out like this. He was never supposed to hurt his brothers.

But they were never supposed to betray him either.

And then there came the rain. Pouring down over him, turning his skin cold. It didn't wash away the pain, or the frustration. They just glared at each other. Both with burning muscles and bleeding wounds. Both tired of the sight of the other.

"I am beyond tired of being treated like I did something wrong. I fixed everything. You have no right to look at me like that." His voice cracked a little bit, and he cursed himself for sounding so weak.

"I can look it you however I want laddie," Chibs glared at him, gaining his composure, straightening his back, eyes always judging him.

"No, fuck that man." The words started spilling out, and once they started there was no way to control himself, "I fucked up. We all do it. You used to be there. It's really fucked up that one day I turn around and you're totally against me and shit. After all the times you kept me going. It feels so fucking shitty. I know I hurt everyone. I get that. But I thought out of everyone I would still have your support. I would have done anything for you, for this club…"

He drew in air, but it burned in his lungs. He hated the way it felt. He could barely see the other man over the sheets of heavy rain surrounding them. His voice was practically being drowned out by the sound of the rain colliding with the bloody concrete.

He felt powerless. Because he knew that no matter what he did that trust was gone. He'd broken everything, and now he couldn't even pick up the pieces. None remained.

Suddenly his back hit something cold and hard, and he realized that Chibs had managed to back him up against one of the doors of the garage. The older man lunged forward, pushing him against the door. He pinned him with his arm over his neck, feeling the boy squirm in his grasp.

Thunder boomed in the distance. And for so long they just stood there, staring at each with dark eyes. Both with aching bodies and heavy breaths.

"I lost the only thing I had left today," his voice grew quiet, "I gave that up for the sake of this club. I don't regret it. I don't regret not telling you either. Because I know now that you would have never understood what I was going through."

His words were followed by silence, and he knew he couldn't hold it in anymore. He let himself go, let the tears mix with the rain on his cheeks. Everything hurt. It overwhelmed him.

He broke down in front of Chibs, his body crumbling against the garage door. He couldn't deny that he was going to miss Clay, and it was becoming clear that he was never going to find that in another person. He had begged to find it here…but that warmth seemed unreachable.

Chibs raised his fist to strike, and Juice closed his eyes, no longer having the strength to fight back. But the blow never came. In fact his body jumped as he heard the boom of the garage door being hit. His eyes snapped open, and he saw Chib's trembling fist next to his face. He removed it, leaving a dark dent in the flimsy metal of the door.

He placed a hand on the boys shoulder. Trying his best to calm down.

Suddenly he was overwhelmed by a feeling of warmth. Warmth that melted away the chill of the rain that was soaking through his being. He felt his body relax, and beg to be lost in it. Lost in a comfort he was sure he was constructing in his own mind. Because he was sure Chibs was beyond holding any feelings for him now.

Despite the way his heart burned when he looked at the figure in front of him, he was sure he would never return those feelings.

"Dammit," He heard Chibs whisper above the drowning thunder of the rain, and suddenly he could feel arms around him. The older man placed his arms over his shoulders, and he could feel his sticky, hot forehead against the cool skin of his own. His eyes stayed closed, unable to meet the gaze he was sure was filled with disappointment.

Chibs let out a long sigh; Juice could feel his warm breath on his face.

They stayed like that for awhile, both exhausted, and not knowing what to say to the other. But the more he felt that warm body against his own, the more he yearned to be closer to him.

It was at this moment that his feelings became clearer to him. All of his anger towards Chibs suddenly made so much sense…because all he had wanted was him. And everything that came with that.

His mind stopped working, and his heart was pounding in his head. He knew what he wanted.

So he turned his head, quickly, and pressed his lips against those of the other man. His eyes closed, and for a moment the aching of his heart and the throbbing of his head ceased. For a split second all the pain he had been feeling was replaced by nothing but calm.

But he realized all too late that he should have never made that move. He could feel the body next to his react with so much panic. Chibs stumbled backwards, arms shoving against the boy's shoulders, trying to put distance between them.

He stared at him, eyes wide.

Something in his heart felt like it had just shattered into a million pieces.

"I- I'm" Juice was speechless.

Chibs was confused. His face burned red. And he wanted nothing more than to escape. Because this was wrong.

"You're confused Juicey. Things are never going to be like that. You decided that when you never came to me. This is you're fault! I was there. I'm not now. You can't just come back and expect everythin to be fine! Just cus you handed Clay over doesn't mean anything is fixed with us. I don't care what happens to you anymore. Just looking at your face disgusts me!" He spit out the words, knowing all too well that they were crushing the person before him.

So he stormed off. Because he couldn't stand that stricken look on Juice's face, or how pained it made his heart feel.

"Fuck!" He cursed, leaving the boy behind in the pouring rain. Never looking back, because he already knew the look on Juice's face. Those teary eyes begging for help, compassion…something he knew he'd never received as a child. Which only made him more guilty.

But he wasn't sure he even knew how to help. Not without getting so involved. And if he did that then all of that boys pain would become his own.

It was just too much to take on.

It was easier to run away.


	2. Guilt

"But it was not your fault but mine  
And it was your heart on the line  
I really fucked it up this time  
Didn't I, my dear?"

Chapter Two

He stormed inside the clubhouse, face burning red. He let the door slam behind him, but it didn't manage to wake the sleeping figures passed out around the bar and couches.

His attention went immediately to the bar. He needed a drink so fucking badly. He practically ran to it, leaving a trail of blood and rainwater behind him. Quickly he grabbed a half full bottle of whiskey and a glass. He practically slammed them down on the bar, hands shaking as he attempted to pour himself a drink. He gave up, and opted to take a swig from the bottle instead. The alcohol burned in this throat.

It took him a couple more gulps before he decided he needed to find a room to crash in. Never once did he look back, but when he wiped the alcohol from his lips with his sleeve he silently prayed it would wipe away everything else.

He didn't dare wait and see if Juice had decided to come back inside or not. He was too concerned with the battling emotions in his head. Drowning them out in the alcohol felt like his best option. He staggered through the hallway, leaning on the wall for support. When he finally did find a bed to stumble into his thoughts were still on Juice. Sitting outside in the rain, eyes looking up at him so full of remorse and rejection. Eyes practically brimming with tears as he had shoved him to the ground and turned his back on him.

"Yere confused Juicey. Things are never going to be like that. You decided that when you never came to me. This is yere fault! I was there. I'm not now. Ye can't jus come back and expect everythin to be fine! Just cus you handed Clay over doesn't mean anything is fixed with us. I don care what appens to you anymore. Just looking at yere face disgusts me!"

Those words had not been entirely true. He was just angry, so frustrated that the boy had never talked to him. Instead he'd let things get worse and worse, until he was buried in something he couldn't escape from. Something he couldn't save him from.

He dropped the bottle and heard it shattered into a million pieces on the floor beside the bed. It didn't matter. He laid there for a long time in his soaked clothes, staring up at the ceiling. Heart heavy with guilt.  
\----

His senses numbed, and all he could feel was the chill of the cold washing over him. He had no idea how long he stayed out there, back pressed against the edge of the garage. Sitting on the ground, clothes soaked through with rain water, face bloody and beaten. Heart all but ripped out of chest.

Because things were not supposed to end up like this.

He let himself cry. Let the tears roll down his face, months of built up feelings flowing out of his exhausted body, mixing with the pouring rain. He slammed his fist against the ground, anger at himself burning deep down inside. He let himself scream.

Everything he had done, he had done for the club. To stay inside, to be with the people he considered family. But did it really mean anything when he was sitting outside, alone in the rain, heart completely broken…

But that wasn't what forced the sobs from his body, or the tears from his eyes. It was the mere notion that he had actually expected anything else. That he had hoped he would not be completely rejected by Chibs, like he had been by everyone else.

He had no one.

No one wanted to be with him.

He realized that now. Whatever chance he had had with Chibs had been utterly crushed under the weight of his betrayal to the club.

He was crushed with an overwhelming feeling of hopelessness. And he sat there for a long while, no longer knowing where to go. His body ached, yearning to be held by someone. He had never been comforted as a child, his mother had never been there for him. The last person he'd hugged was Jax, who had only done so because he betrayed Clay. The person before that was Clay, who he had turned over ,for what?

All he truly wanted was for someone to tell him it was going to be allright. Because he was so tired of being alone. Chibs had been that person. He'd been there when he tried to kill himself months ago. He'd looked after him…but now even that was gone. He whimpered, knowing that warmth was gone.

It was probably better this way. He had never deserved it anyways.

He picked himself up, and forced himself out of the rain. His body felt so weak and every step hurt. But he knew if he could just get himself into bed, he could hopefully sleep this off and wake up with a feeling that was a little more numb to all of this. Maybe even forget the look on Chibs face when he told him he no longer wanted anything to do with him.

Getting to his room was easy enough. Even else was already asleep. He cursed himself for wondering where Chibs had gone, because part of him wanted so badly to be near him. But he stumbled past the room he knew the scot usually slept in, and slammed the door to his own. He collapsed on his bed, rolling over on his side and hugging his knees to his chest.

He laid there, just staring at the black wall, trying to get a grip on himself. Trying to figure out where he would do from here.

It felt like ages went by before his tired eyes finally closed, and he drifted off to sleep.  
\-----

His eyes snapped open. He awoke in a fit of sweat, his heart pounding in his chest. Those hateful words he'd said earlier echoing in his head. He sat up, and wasn't surprised when he realized he'd dozed off still wearing his soaked clothing. The sheets underneath him were wet and cold with rain water, and his clothes were uncomfortable.

The room reeked of alcohol. Chibs groaned, wishing he could go back to sleep. But the demons in his head were haunting his dreams, and he didn't dare close his eyes again.

He needed to go check on Juice. He wasn't sure how long it had been, or even where he was. But he was truly worried. He needed to know he was all right. The anger he had held against him earlier had been replaced with a feeling of guilt. Juice had been right. He should have tried to be there….should have taken his side.

The feelings he had for that boy were so confusing, it made his head spin just thinking about it.

He got up, groaning from the wounds he'd received earlier. His side felt alive with pain, and his head throbbed. He tore off his cold jacket and kicked off his boots before heading out of the room.

The hallway was dark. Someone had gone through the trouble of turning off all the lights. But it didn't matter, he still knew exactly where he was going. Months ago he would purposely walk by Juice's room to make sure the boy was allright. Constantly keeping an eye on him.

When did that change exactly?

He used to care so much more…somewhere along the road he had tried to bury those emotions, hoping it would make everything easier.

Juice was troubled after all. He was truly a handful to take care of. But so were all of the members of the club…they'd spent the last month dealing with issues brought up by their highly emotional individuals. Jax feuding with Clay, and Tig stirring up trouble with Pope.

When he reached the door he hesitated, his hand lingering above the doorknob.

The door wasn't locked, as he turned the knob it opened slowly. The room was dark, and he could smell the familiar scent of blood lingering in the air. He cursed himself. He'd gotten quite a few hits in earlier…the boy could have been hurt and he'd just left him alone.

He stood in the doorway for a moment, unable to muster the courage to step into the room.

It took him a moment before he realized that the bed was empty. A small ray of light could be scene under the door to the bathroom and he could hear what sounded like running water…

Probably trying to wash all that blood off the face he'd punched…how many times? Probably too many. Chibs let out a long, exhausted sigh.

He plopped down on the bed in the corner, waiting, trying to wrack his brain for the right words to say. Part of him wasn't even sure exactly why he was here…Everything felt so confusing.

His heart skipped a beat when he saw the bathroom door open slowly. Suddenly being here didn't feel so right, but it was too late to walk away now.

Juice nearly jumped when he turned and saw that there was someone else in the room. He just stood there for a moment, staring at him. Chibs stared back, almost feeling guilty for the way his eyes scanned every inch of the figure in front of him. He was wearing nothing but a pair of loose fitting black sweat pants. But even in the dim light room he could see the ugly purple bruises forming on his stomach and face. That was enough to make him look away.

"Wha-what do you want?" he just stood in the doorway of the bathroom, and his eyes stared sadly at the floor, "Just forget about what happened man." Chibs sat there, eyes never leaving the fine curves of the boys stomach, or the arch of his hip bones just above the waist line of his pants. And suddenly it became very clear to him why exactly he was here. Why he'd been so hurt when Juice didn't tell him the truth…

Because he cared way too much.

Somewhere down the line he had developed feelings that were stronger than he had for the other members. That was something he knew was dangerous, especially when they were towards a rat.

Nothing good could come from his feelings for this boy. That much he was sure of.

It took him a moment to realize he'd been staring for far too long.

"Look boy, I'm sorry. I just couldn't sleep and I wanted to make sure you were allright. Didn't mean to leave you alone outside." His head turned and for a moment their eyes met. Juice's so full of sadness, it practically broke his heart. He was sure he looked like a fool sitting here, he definitely felt like one.

He knew a simple apology was going to do no good. But at the moment it was all he could think of.

"It's chill man." His voice was cold, this was not at all going how Chibs had hoped. That vulnerable, emotional boy had been left in the rain outside.

Chibs stood up, sensing that this conversation was not going where he had wanted, "No it's not. That's why I'm here." He took a step forward, and they were face to face. But the eyes that met him were so broken looking.

"Just go." Those words cut straight through him ,"I get it man. I do. I just didn't know how you felt about me. Now that I do I'll back off." Something inside his head was screaming at him, because this was not how he wanted this conversation to end.

But Juice was pushing him away.

Something in him panicked, and suddenly he was on his feet, rushing towards the figure in front of him.

He overtook him easily, shoving his body roughly against the bathroom door. He could feel the smaller body trembling underneath him, and a quiet whimper escaped from Juice's lips. His hands moved quickly, grabbing the wrists of the younger man and pinning them over his head. Grasping the hot skin so tight he was sure it would leave bruises.

Maybe that was what he wanted.

The boy twisted in his grasp. The feeling of the hot, sweaty skin against his cool body overwhelmed him, and he pushed against his, feeling his chest against his own. He could practically feel the pounding on his heart beat.

They looked into each other's eyes, one so calm and dark, the other wide and panic filled. It didn't matter. He knew what the boy wanted, and he decided to let his body give in. Juice whimpered underneath his weight, his face red and hot, the breath suddenly stolen from his lungs.

And then Chibs twisted his head and pressed his lips against his own, forcing his tongue into the younger man's mouth. He could feel the body underneath his tremble. There was something that felt right about it, despite the fact that they both knew this would damn them.

With Clay and Tara being sent off to prison, Jax's emotional and risky way of leading, mixed with the lies, the bad decisions…this felt like a moment of calm in the storm it had all created. It didn't truly matter who it was with, or atleast that's what Chibs tried to convince himself. That he just needed something, and he knew he could get it from this person.

Not that to say that he didn't want to suck every fiber of life from this person's being with his lips and his teeth.

Because he really fucking did.

Later on he was sure he would just blame it on alcohol.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lyrics come from "Little Lion Man" by Mumford and Sons. Thanks for reading!


	3. Alive

"Let's make this fleeting moment last forever  
So, tell me what you're waiting for?  
I'm gonna keep it frozen here forever,  
There's no regretting anymore..."

The tastes, sensations and the emotions that came with them, completely overwhelmed his body. He felt like he was suffocating. His mouth opened in a gasp, his lungs begging for air. But instead he was met with the older man's tongue forcing its way into his mouth, kissing him almost violently. There were teeth too, biting at his lips, unlike the dominance that came with being with a woman.

This was something completely different.

This was something that threatened to take him under and never give way. There was something he liked so much about the way this body left him breathless and weak. Something about the way he was being overpowered made his body beg and plead for more.

So he bit back, and pushed against the body pinning him back.

He questioned nothing. Because he knew the moment his brain was able to rationalize the situation, nothing but cold would remain. The moment he realized he could never truly have this, when it felt so incredibly right, would be the moment he lost faith in everything.

So he shoved against him, and Chibs took a few steps backwards, their bodies staying hot and close. Then he felt rough arms tugging at his, turning his body.

And then they were falling.

For a moment his head was spinning, and then he felt the coolness of the sheets against the bare skin of his back. It took his head to stop spinning for him to realize that he was lying on his back, and there was the body of an older, rougher Scott on top of him. And he loved the way it felt to have that weight on top of him, practically crushing the life from his very bones.

He saw nothing in the dark, but he knew exactly what he wanted. His hand went up and grasped the back of the man's head, burying his fingers in his light colored hair. He forced his mouth to his, loving the feeling of his warm breath on his face.

There were fingers sliding down his body, lightly caressing every curve. They curled around his neck, and he let out a gasp for air. It hurt. Rough, calloused fingers pressing down on his already bruised body.

But there wasn't a split second he didn't enjoy it.

They said nothing. He opened his mouth a couple times to try and say something, anything. But each time he was silenced so quickly by those lips on his, and he never protested.

Just gave in.

Those fingers left his neck, allowing him air. For a moment his head was spinning, but his body never stopped begging for more. They trailed down his body, skimming over the finely chiseled muscles of his chest and stomach.

His heart was pounding in his ears, and he felt chib's hand linger for a moment before slipping under the top of his sweatpants, pressing down hard on the skin underneath the fabric.

His eyes closed as he sucked on the lips of the other man, feeling his body trembling, sweat sliding down his forehead.

That was the moment everything stopped making sense.

Shots echoed throughout the room. Exploding in his ears. And before he knew what was happening they were crashing to the cold, hard floor and Chibs was yelling in his ear. He laid there on the floor for a moment, watching the older man's lips move, but no words ever reached his ears.

Then it really hit him.

Hot, searing pain cutting through his shoulder, making him scream. Everything came back. He could hear Chibs yelling as more shots cut through the walls of his room. They were both lying prone on the floor, bullets flying overhead. His body refused to move.

Chibs stared at him with eyes suddenly wild with panic, and he saw him reach for the gun around his belt.

Instinctively he forced himself up, snatching the gun on the desk next to his bed. It wasn't until he moved his arm that he realized it was red with blood, and there was an ugly bullet wound in the upper part of his shoulder.

"Fuck!"

There was the sound of shouting outside his room, and a stampede of footsteps. Gunshots ripped through the clubhouse. They were both on their feet, rushing towards the door. The door slammed against the wall as Chibs threw it open, practically ripping it from its hinges.

Juice watched him enter the hallway, saw his eyes grow wide, and his fingers flinch as he pulled the trigger.

Everything was happening too fast. He couldn't react.

He didn't move. It took a moment to realize that whatever had just been happening had just been stolen from him. And as he charged forward to defend his friend, he knew it was never coming back.

But that should have been the least of his concerns. Because clearly they were being ambushed.

On the end of the hallway he could make out the bar, and larger room connected to it. His heart pounded in his ears as they took a couple steps forward, and took in the scene as it played out in front of them.

They were wearing dark colored hoodies and jeans, and when they turned to face them Juice couldn't make out their faces due to the black masks covering their faces. What he did register were the automatic weapons in their hands.

There was blood everywhere, it burned in his nostrils, as did the screaming in his ears. Chibs was in front of him, and suddenly he shoved himself between the Scott and their attackers.

His eyes met those of one of the larger ones, and his body braced itself, preparing for the bullets he was sure would kill him. The world seemed to move in slow motion, and he could vaguely hear Chibs yelling behind him. He raised the shaking gun in his hands, preparing to fire.

He never got the chance.

The gun was ripped from his hand, and suddenly he realized all too late that his attacker was faster than he was. A sharp kick to the stomach sent him falling to the ground. He watched in horror as one of the men in front of him raised his gun and a gunshot exploded in his ears.

Behind him he could hear Chibs hit the floor, cursing.

His mind panicked, eyes scrambling to find a weapon, anything to protect himself. Because there was three men in front of him, one who had just shot down his closest friend, and two more who looked as though they were about to do the same to him.

Chibs hit the floor with a yelp, hot pain tore through his side. His body trembled and his vision blurred, but his eyes never left the figure in front of him. Lying on the ground, blood spilling on to the floor around him.

His mind was panicking. Because he was sure he was about to watch in horror as the boy was gunned down.

But they never raised their gun to juice. Instead one remained pointed on him as the other two roughly grabbed the boy by his shoulders and hoisted him to feet. He screamed in frustration. Where were the others? His body refused to move, but they were taking Juice. Goddammit.

The man turned his body, and for a moment their eyes met. Juice's brown eyes were wide with fear and pain. His captor pinned his arms behind his back, making the pain in his shoulder burn even more. He felt the cool metal of a gun, digging into his skin. His eyes looked down and saw the glock pointed at his neck.

A hostage. To ensure that they made it out of the clubhouse in one piece, no doubt.

With two automatics pointed at him, Chib's didn't dare grab for his gun. All he could do was watch as the men began backing up. They hurried out of the clubhouse, taking everything with them.

Everything.

His brother, defenseless and innocent. Rat or not, Chibs had always considered him a causality of the club. Someone that had been twisted and confused by the corruption brought on by Clay.

But now there was nothing he could do to save him. Because they were taking him.

Suddenly he was on his feet. But they trembled underneath him. The room twisted and spun as he forced his body forward. Gun clenched tightly in one hand, the other pressed to his side, blood seeping through his fingers. The pain burned, and his head ached. Each step felt like he was being shot all over again.

There were people around him. Screaming. Running to his aide. He say Bobby and Tigg out of the corner of his eye, both looked shaken up. He stumbled out of the hallway, grasping the edge of the bar as he struggled to move forward.

The door to the back was open, and he could see the head lights of a car flashing. He screamed in frustration as he watched the van speed off, tires screeching on the pavement. His body crumbled against the bar, knees giving out underneath him.

"Chibs, fuck you're bleeding?!" Suddenly tigg was at his side. But he barely heard the words he spoke. He could feel his own lips moving, but the words never registered. He wasn't even sure if what he was saying made sense. But he could feel his body shaking with pain and rage.

Uncontrollable rage.

"Fuck," He cried out, slamming his gun down on the bar floor, "They fuckin took him."

His own screams burned in his throat as he broke down on the clubhouse floor.


	4. Monster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm so horribly messed up for writing this chapptterrrr  
>  It took me a long while to figure out how I wanted to approach this part. The last scene contains rape, so if you're not comfortable reading that then skip along. Not sure how I feel about Chibs accent yet, some people right it, some don't. I feel sometimes its overdone, or not done enough. So bear with me on that part! Thanks for reading!

__  
Monster,  
How should I feel?  
Creatures lie here  
Looking through the windows 

He's sitting on the cold ground, in the dead of night. The forest around him, black and silent. His back rests against the oak of a tree. His lets his head fall back, and he looks up into the sky, hot tears burning down his cheeks.

His lungs burn as he screams, sobbing.

His hands shake as they grasp tightly to the now limp figure in his arms. Pale skin and ugly purple bruises covering what was once so full of life. A lifeless blanket over what had once been his chance for happiness.

Dead in his arms.

So he cries out, and he screams. Letting his emotion rip through the silence of the night sky. Because he cannot escape from the notion that this is his fault. That this innocent, beautiful figure in his hands would still be alive, if only he had taken care of him. But he knew he wasn't capable of doing that. He felt the sting of the guilt. Guilt from failing Fiona, Kerrianne…but most of all for failing his brother.

He dares himself to look down, and see the calm on the boys face. He swears that's the moment his heart breaks in his chest. At least it feels that way. Because how can he be so calm? And leave him here so destroyed? How can he look so peaceful when he had been dying alone in this godforsaken woods?

Broken, he rests his head on Juice's forehead, and there is nothing. No warmth. Just a chilling, cold. He watches sadly as his own tears slid down that face. The face of someone he dared care about.

The face of the boy he should have never let get under his skin.  
\---

The moment his eyes snap open they're searching for that boy. And the moment he realizes there is nothing in his arms at all, he is able to relax.

He takes in the walls around him, white and plain. The smell of disinfectant practically burns in his nostrils. He hates that smell.

But it isn't till he tries to really sit up that he realizes he must be in a hospital. Because the way he winces, makes him remember that he'd been shot. His body is covered in white sheets, and even though he can't see the wound he's sure it's ugly.

Fuck.

It all comes rushing back to him, making his heart pound in his chest. That shot that rang in his ears, and pushed him to the ground. Watching as Juice was held by gunpoint and stolen from him. Now at the mercy of whoever dared shoot up their clubhouse…Desperately he looks around, and his eyes meet those of his new president. He lets himself breathe.

Jax is sitting in a chair across from the door, slumped back, arms folded over his chest.

"You're awake," he smiles a little bit, but it's a dead, lifeless sort of smile, "You feeling okay old man?" There used to be so much light and hope in Jax. Seeing him now only made Chibs feel sad. He had become a hollow shell of who he used to be, never to be the same until Tara was home safe. He understood that much. His body aches painfully and he lets out a long sigh.

"I'll live" He says flatly. There's an obvious tension in the room, and he knows better than to assume Jax was here solely to check up on him. Everyone knew he was a tough bastard. He'd been through much worse. They both knew why he was really here, and it was a subject both were hesitant to press.

The look in the Scott's eyes told Jax everything.

"No." Was all he had to say, Chibs shook his head, "He's a rat, Chibs. I'm not about to risk the lives of my men for Juice." He needed a smoke so badly, another reason why he hated hospitals. Something to take the tension off, before he said something he'd regret and give himself away.

"You asked me to be your VP," Chibs said quietly, his eyes staring down where his wound was hidden by a mass of white, "What happens to Juice is club business. You can't just say no and that be that. Besides if you two still have shite it needs to be brought to the fukin table. You can't just leave him fer some goons to fuck with."

Jax only shook his head. It frustrated him, how stubborn he was becoming…it reminded him of someone.

"They called a couple hours after we brought you here. It's Dion's men Chibs. I guess they used to have some kind of business agreement with Pope. Now that they're out of prison and we've taken over their side of the business they want back in. Said they'd let him go if I convinced August to reach out to them. But if I feel like it's too risky I'm not about to let anyone get hurt over a rat. You've already taken a bullet for that scum."

"I'd take a bullet any day for one of my brothers, laddie."

Jax glared at him, blue eyes piercing into his own. He watched him rise out of his seat, preparing to leave. He let out a long, tired sigh.

"I'm pretty sure they still remember him from prison. Im going to wait it out for a couple of days. I met with August and he's already agreed to give us a couple of men to go in and get rid of them. Until then I'm gonna hope Juice learns a valuable lesson about loyalty."

"You're daft boy, they'll fuckin kill em." Chibs growled, the frustration in his voice was impossible to hide.

"Then so be it!" Jax yelled suddenly, his voice raw with emotion, "The only-The only reason why I even went to August was because Juice helped take down Clay. If he had not done that I would have killed him myself."

With that he stormed out of the room, leaving Chibs in his hospital bed. Absentmindedly eying his wound. Unable to keep his mind from thinking about the boy he was sure was in trouble.  
\-----

He watched in horror as the clubhouse faded behind him. His body struggled against the arms that held him tight, dragging him away from his home.

"Fuck you man let me go!" He growled at him, foolishly struggling. No longer caring what happened to himself. He'd heard the gun shot, and seen that pained look on Chib's face. He'd been fucking shot, and there was nothing he could do. If he had been thinking rationally he would have realized that the other members were probably rushing to his aid now. But all he could think about was that look on the older man's face, and the blood seeping through his shirt. It made him frantic.

Then suddenly those hands were gone, and he was roughly shoved into the back of the van. He groaned as he hit the ground, falling on his wounded shoulder. Pain shot through it, making him cringe. His mind was filled with panic. Because he realized all too late that the other men were pooling into the back of the van and one of them moved to close the black doors…

He lunged forward. Screaming. Trying desperately to escape, because the fear of being at someone else's mercy was too great. He managed to push past a couple of them, but his body collided painfully with the door. His eyes peered through the tiny back window, watching as the clubhouse disappeared from sight. By the time he realized there was sure to be repercussions for his sudden outburst, it was too late. Rough hands grabbed his arms and he was shoved viciously to the ground. He collided, face first with the floor of the van.

A ringing erupted in his ears, and suddenly the room was spinning. Suddenly their voices sounded so very far away…his eye lids fluttered, and he moved his head. He wasn't sure if the pain in his shoulder had subsided or if it was just his body becoming numb…When his vision managed to clear he realized he was looking at a sea of red, splattered all over the truck bed. Then he felt it. Blood, trickling out of his nose. He could taste it as it rolled down his lips. Metallic and sickeningly hot.

It was the last thing he remembered before he blacked out.  
\----

His eyes opened so slowly. His vision was foggy for a long time and his mind felt clouded. It took him a moment to regain any sense of feeling in his body. He could vaguely remember all the blood from earlier…he could feel it now. Dried and caking up his nostrils, leaving a trail down his face. A groan escaped his lips as the pain from his shoulder flared back up. His head pounded and he felt as though he was going to be sick.

A voice made him snap out of his pain filled stupor. He practically jumped as he heard someone behind him. A hand wrapped around his throat and he flinched at the touch.

He tried to move his hands, only to find that they had been painfully twisted around his back, tied up with a cord that was cutting into his skin.

"Miss me much?" That voice made him panic. Because he knew too well who it belonged to. He struggled against the ties, making his captor chuckle.

"You look awfully pretty with all that blood on your face," there was a hint of darkness in that voice that scared him. He was meeting demons he swore he'd never have to face. The only visible light in the room was from a dim bulb, hanging from the ceiling, flickering off and on.

"Fuck you man," he tried to hide the fear in his voice, but his entire body was shaking. He was freezing, and it took him far too long before he realized it was because he had been stripped of everything he'd been wearing earlier. The blood from his nose trailed down his chest, and his shoulder was a sticky, red mess. He could practically feel those dark eyes on him, and he shivered, feeling completely exposed.

Completely at their mercy.

He knew there were others in the room. He could barely make out their figures in the dim light of the room, but he could practically feel their hot breath on his body. Those fingers left his neck, leaving him choking for air, his body shaking as he felt cold hands sliding down his skin.

His fingers traced the contours of his exposed flesh. They pressed down hard, nails digging cruelly into his tan skin. He trembled in his grasp.

Fucking fight back fight back fight back!

His mind screamed at him, but his body refused to move. There was no part of him that was hopeful for a way out, or a savior. Dion kicked him square across the back of his leg, forcing him on his knees. He whimpered, arms writhing in his restraint, the cords holding his wrists drawing blood. A cold hand grasped the top of his head, fingers digging into his shaved scalp.

"You're mine now bitch." He swore his heart was going to explode in his chest. It was pounding so hard it hurt. Panic rushed over him. He struggled in his grasp but was unable to move. His muscles ached, and he heard Dion laughing behind him.

Part of him had always known he had this coming. Had always feared something of this nature would be in his future. But as he watched the scene unfold it was as though it was happening to someone else. He was in denial. There was no way this could ever happen to him…

One of other thugs shoving his dick into his mouth, convinced him otherwise. He choked, feeling as though he was going to be sick as he bit down hard. The man withdrew, but he was greeted with a harsh punch across the jaw.

He keeled over, coughing, watching in horror as his blood stained the concrete floor. The men around him just laughed. He stared down at the red, and felt like he was looking down at the blood of someone else. Like that couldn't be his.

Because he couldn't be in this situation.

Another punch to the face reminded him that could never be true. Because the pain was so real. For a moment his world was spinning, until he inhaled sharply and was struck with the pain from the blow. His body trembled, and he watched in horror as his blood dribbled unto the concrete floor.

Then there was a boot against his back, and he was kicked roughly, landing on his stomach, laying prone on the cold ground. His body was beginning to fail him. The pain in his head was enormous, and he was beginning to lose the feeling in his hands. His mind was foggy, and he was sure he was close to passing out. His eye lids fluttered, and he dizzily watched the room spin around him. Watched the faces swirling together as they approached him.

There was weight on top of him, so heavy he felt like his bones were about to break. Dion sat on top of him, pinning him to the ground, he squirmed underneath him. Suddenly he felt a hand on the back of his head, and without warning Dion slammed his face against the concrete floor. He let out a groan. The struggling stopped. His body wasn't reacting, he was sure it had something to do with the red streaks dripping down his face and chin…smearing all over the dirty floor.

Blood.

He was losing so much fucking blood.

Juan Carlos Ortiz had never been one to pray. Never been one to believe in anything. But right now he sure was, praying someone or something would put a stop to this. Whether it was through his death, or his salvation.

He just needed it to end.

But Dion shouting in his ear made him realize that would never be the case. He couldn't hear the man unbuckling his belt, fumbling hastily with his pants. Couldn't grasp was about to happen until after he was screaming. Screaming as Dion was forcing his way inside him, drawing blood and tearing flesh. Making him all but wish that last hit had rendered him unconscious.

The screams didn't sound like his own, and if it hadn't been for the burning of his throat he would have swore they belonged to someone else. Someone broken and defeated, someone beyond any form of rescue…So full of pain and agony it made him shake, tears burning down his cheeks, mixing with the blood.

He wasn't sure how long it all lasted. Eventually the screams had stopped, and he'd just given up completely, lying there while they forced him into different positions. Forced his body to please them in whatever way they desired. Until finally they were satisfied.

They left him there. Stomach pressed against the ground, head turned, tears rolling across the bridge of his nose and dripping onto the floor.

He watched them as they left, watched their mouths curl into grins. They spoke, and he was sure they were laughing, but the words never reached his ears.

He heard the slam of a door behind him, and allowed himself to sob. His arms still tied and bleeding, his body burning with pain, unable to move a muscle. So he just lay there, crying so much his body shook weakly.

There was no coming back from this.

There was no light anymore, no hope for any sort of life or comfort. He realized now how foolish he had been, going to Chibs for support. Those bruises he left were now mixed with those of his attacker. It destroyed the whole thing, making him feel dirty for ever wanting it in the first place.

So he cried until he swore he had no tears left.

Cried like a fucking child. For a moment he thought of Clay… He remembered the warmth his family had once brought. Looking up to Clay as a father figure, wanting to do everything he could to help him and his family…now all but destroyed. He had felt safe then.

This situation felt like reality giving him a sick reminder that he would never truly be safe. Never truly have a family.

Because after all he had ever done for them, sacrificed for them, they had allowed this. He knew that.

They had left him to be destroyed.


	5. Nightmare

_"It's just a nightmare,_  
Go back to sleep.  
It's just a nightmare,  
And I run and I run from the only one  
who can wake me up" 

When they came upon the building the air was so thick with anxiety, it was practically suffocating. It was dark outside, and the world seemed quiet except for the hum of their bikes. The black van followed close behind, with Chib's behind the wheel and Tig sitting quietly passenger side. He stared blankly out the window, obviously annoyed. Chib's paid no attention, but his hands trembled at the wheel. Days had passed, maybe four or five? They all seemed to run together, and the pain in his side still hurt. Still reminded him of watching those men drag his brother away…

When they reached the building, he practically slammed on the brakes. There was a moment when he just stared at the dilapidated building ahead. Old and dark, windows covered by rotting boards, no signs of life that he could see. A feeling of dread crept over him. They found it on the outskirts of town, no one around for miles. Probably better that way he thought, no one around to hear the gun shots…

Because he was sure to put more than a couple bullets in each of them.

The van door slammed behind him as he got out, making Tig jump. Jax and Happy came around from behind the van, their bikes parked to the side. Both had their hands on their guns.

"Okay, so me and Happy are going to head around the back, there's probably a few side doors around, you two try to find a back in through there…" Jax gave his orders, but the building was huge, probably an abandoned warehouse of some sort. Everyone knew it was going to take a while to search, if they were even still here.

Jax seriously doubted August would give them the wrong location, but this place looked as though it was going to be huge pain in the ass. There was also the creeping notion that they were already gone…he hadn't seen any vehicles around, and there had been what looked to be fresh tire tracks on the muddy road here. He tried not to let those things bother him though.

He was here to get revenge for what had happened to his club house, finding Juice was not a priority on his list. If they were already gone this trip would feel as though it was for nothing.

They moved quickly, Tig followed Chibs after he watched the other two disappeared around the other side of the building. He never spoke to Chibs, only watched the look on his face, one that appeared so calm on the surface, but he was sure was a mess underneath. He had never been given time to question it, though he was almost certain from watching the man that something else was going on here.

His amount of concern was alarming to say the least. The only time he remembered seeing a look similar on the Scott's face was back in Belfast when protecting his family.

The older man stopped suddenly, and Tig nodded as he signaled to the door a few feet away from them. It was barely on its hinges, and they could see the entrance to the building, dark and black. He fumbled for the flashlight at his side as Chibs disappeared into the darkness of the doorway.

Inside the building reeked of rotting wood, rust and mold. He coughed as his nostrils were bombarded with the stench. He scanned his flashlight around the room, his other hand clung to his gun. If there was still someone here they would clearly have the advantage….His eyes squinted as he realized there were parts of the building that were still lit. Light bulbs constantly flickering, but it was light nonetheless. This place still had power…either that or someone had rigged it to.

"Chibs?" he growled, but was met with only silence. Fuck. It would be so easy to get lost in a place like this. He stood in the hallway for a moment, trying to take in all of his surroundings.

The place was so massively huge and destroyed, he resorted to kicking in doors as a start. The second one practically shattered when his boot kicked against it. Wood split from the blow, splintering around him. He growled as he pulled his foot free from the hole he had created.

He was about to turn away and continue down the hallway but something stopped him.

He heard something behind that door. A noise so quiet he could barely hear it above the creaking of the old boards. But he kicked the door again, freeing it from its hinges. It slammed against the concrete floor.

"Holy Shit," Tig just stared for a long time. Taking in the rancid smell of the room, the stench of blood and sweat. For a moment, he looked down at Juice and felt like he couldn't breathe. Because he had never thought…

The guilt was unbearable. They had stalled for days…

He shook his head, trying to snap himself out of his stupor. He rushed to his brother's side, fumbling around in the dark of the room, not bothering to find a light switch. He was about to bend down beside him when a voice startled him.

"Stop," It was Juice, his voice raspy and almost unrecognizable. He could see the blood smeared across his lips as they moved, "Don't come near me." His words hurt, but they came as no surprise. The two of them had never been close. Tig was probably one of the last people he wanted to see right now.

"You look totally fucked up kid," The words sounded so stupid on his lips. He'd never been good at comforting people. His children had been a constant reminder of that, "You gotta let me help you okay? Or I can go get Chibs or-"

"No!" He cut him off, yelling so hard it made his throat hurt, "You can't…you can't go get anyone." Confused, Tig took a step backwards. A feeling of dread crept over him, and suddenly he realized he needed to be able to see what was going on. He stepped back to the doorway, and searched along the wall for a light switch. He could barely make out the kid in the dark, and he needed to know what he was walking into.

He heard Juice whimper as the light came on. What he saw in front of him practically stole the breath from his lungs, and he stood there in a doorway for a while, trying to take it all in. His eyes grew wide, and he felt his stomach churn.

The boy had been lying on the ground, which was sort of what he had expected. But the room was much smaller than he had first assumed, probably a closet of some sort. But that wasn't what alarmed him.

There was blood everywhere. One look at Juice and it was obvious where it came from. He was laying on his stomach, his bleeding skin completely exposed. There were dark colored gashes all along his back and his side. The only bit of clothing on him was what looked like part of a shirt wrapped around his upper shoulder from where he had been shot days ago. The fabric was an ugly dark red color, obviously doing no good to heal the wound underneath.

Even more prominent than those cuts were the bruises…ugly, purple and dark. They wrapped around his neck, leaving painful imprint of fingers and scratches. They were all down his back too, and Tig couldn't help but jump to conclusions when he realized they snaked down his lower back and hips.

He closed his eyes for a moment. Fuck.

"I gotta go get someone dude, we gotta get you outta here." His eyes met those brown orbs, so full of sadness and pain. Juice's eyes were surrounded by dark bruises, and his face looked so gaunt and tired. How long had he been here? Three or four days? They had certainly never been in much of a hurry to get here…

"No they can't fucking know!" He was yelling at him, with more strength than Tig thought he could have mustered from his broken body. His eyes drifted back to those bruises again, realizing that there was blood there too. Blood that crept over the curves of his back and thighs. Then it hit him like a slap to the face. It became painfully obvious why he didn't want anyone else here.

His eyes were pleading with him, so full of shame it almost broke his heart.

"Please don't tell anyone," He cried to him, "Especially not Chibs." Tig nodded. He had no choice but to agree, he felt a sense of calm as he realized the others were out there shooting down the people that did this.

He bent down beside the boy, taking his jacket off and draping it down on the bleeding body on the floor. He frowned as he realized that his arms were pinned underneath him, tied together with an ugly bloody rope. The skin underneath was purple and swollen. How long had he been left like this?

"Here," He reached underneath him, pulling his arms out and trying not to hurt him anymore. He used his knife to cut the rope free, and Juice whimpered in pain as the pressure was finally gone, "are you okay to walk?" Juice shook his head, not making eye contact. It felt like such a stupid question, and he cursed himself for his poor people skills.

"Sorry man I'm not very good at this." A stupid excuse. He hated himself, "I'll pick you up and carry you outta here okay? We should have some extra clothes in the truck." He tried to rub some life back into his swollen hands but the boy flinched at his touch. A likely response, Tig thought. For a moment he stayed crouched by his side, looking him over, trying to figure out how he was going to get him up without hurting him more.

This called for someone else. He fucking knew that. He could practically picture Chibs in his place, fatherly and caring. This felt so incredibly awkward. Slowly, he squeezed his arms underneath him, feeling the sickly hot skin under his fingertips.

"Stop," Juice cried weakly, clearly not trusting his touch, Tig ignored him. Picking him up proved easy because he weighed so much less than Tig had first assumed.

The arms supporting him were warm, and he rested his tired head against the man's chest. Tig assumed he'd almost immediately close his eye, he looked so exhausted. But instead they stayed open the entire time, staring blankly into the black around them. They were absent from that youthful shine Tig had remembered…

The trip back to the van was awkward to say the least. Mostly because he'd never pictured carrying a naked, bleeding comrade in his arms. Especially not the one he'd been calling a rat and ridiculing these last couple weeks. He could hear the apologies he mumbled constantly under his breath, they all sounded pathetic. He could feel the rising and falling of the boy's chest against his body, labored and heavy. Even more alarming was the notion that some of that blood was very fresh, probably from him coughing it up.

He laid him down in the back of the van, carefully, trying not to do more damage than good. But the floor was cold and hard, and he knew it couldn't be much better than where he'd been before. He left his jacket underneath him, bloodstained and ruined. He fumbled around the van awkwardely for a moment trying to find something to cover him up with. He knew if he didn't it was going to be all too obvious what had happened to the boy. Despite his hatred of Juice, he wasn't about to humiliate him more by letting the whole club figure out the missing pieces of the story.

He managed to find a t-shirt and some sweatpants in the front of the van and hurried back to where he had left the boy. He sat down beside him, trying not to look at the wounds which had now become more visible by the interior light of the vehicle. Juice stared at him through swollen eyes, hands purple and limp at his side.

He let out a whimper as Tig grabbed him and pulled the shirt over his arms, more roughly than he had wanted to. He leaned against the man to keep from falling over, breathing raspy and heavy. Pulling the pants over him proved to be much more difficult and the fact that he trembled and flinched at every touch only made Tig feel worse. When he managed to get them over the boys thighs he moved his hands away and realized they were covered in blood.

Embarrassed, he wiped them down his own pants quickly, feeling awkwardly dirty with Juice's blood all over him. He laid him back down on the floor quickly and stumbled out of the van. He just stood there for a moment, his stomach feeling sick. He turned to leave, but was stopped by the sound of Juice coughing.

"Promise not to tell them," He practically choked out the words.

"Yeah sure. Look I'm gonna go get the guys, I'll be right back." Tig tried to sound cool, but his voice was shaking.

He slammed the van door shut as he fled from the guilt he'd left behind in that van.  
\---

Searching the warehouse had proved to be no good, and they had grown frustrated and tired quickly. Chibs had been hollering around, kicking in doors and practically destroying anything that was not already in pieces. Jax had stood back coldly, silently steaming with anger for the lack of bloodshed. Happy had followed closely behind Chibs, still cautious of anything buried in the shadows.

But when Tig had come stumbling down the hall howling that he'd found Juice, it was only Jax left in the dark. The other too hurried behind him as they raced back to the van. He stayed behind for a moment, hands practically trembling in frustration, before he let it go and stormed away from the rotting wood and the black halls.

"Hey hey hold on a second!" Tig protested, jumping in front of Chibs and the van, seeing the anxiety clear on his face, "There's something you need to-" The older man shoved him out of the way and forced the back doors open. Tig growled, but stepped aside, clearly uncomfortable with the situation.

"Fuck," Chibs banged his fist against the door to the van, body trembling. There was blood all over the floor of the van. Tig had left Juice laying on his side, carefully, in case he ending up choking up more blood. He didn't turn on acknowledge them, just laid there quietly, giving no sign that he was still with them except for the labored rise and fall of his chest.

"He needs a doctor," Happy said after taking one look at the body before them. Chibs hoisted himself into the van, and Tig watched in confusion as the man rushed to his side. He had expected about as much. The sudden movement made Juice practically spring to life. Tig and Happy stepped back almost instinctively as the boy shot up. Chibs, as stubborn as he was, only made more of an effort to take the boy in his arms. Juice hoisted himself up by his trembling arms, and attempted to back himself into the corner of the van. His eyes were filled with panic, and for a moment they darted between all three of the bikers before he collapsed against the floor of the van. Coughing and shaking.

"The fucks wrong with him?!" Jax yelled from behind them, startling everyone, "Chib's get out of the damn van. You're obviously freaking him out." Chibs mumbled something under his breath that they couldn't understand, but refused to move out of the van. The slowly moved over the boy, feeling's of frustration and fear overtaking him. He didn't know much about healing, but if his time learning had taught him anything at all, he knew Juice needed to get a hospital and fast. His eyes were drawn to his hands, purple and swollen, obviously from lack of circulation. The others were yelling behind him, but he drowned the noises out as he whispered quiet words of comfort to the boy on the floor.

He trembled under his fingertips, clearly not trusting their touch. Chibs let out a long sigh, but managed to slowly lift the boy's head into his lap. He then proceeded to rub some life back into his hands, the whimpers his movements caused practically broke his heart. But he continued whispering too him, trying to soothe him, trying not to look at all that blood, or the cuts he could see underneath his ill fitting shirt.

"No doctors…" Jax grumbled to Tig and Happy. He was not about to risk the security of the club for Juice, despite his obvious pain. If they brought him into the hospital like this was an obviously untreated bullet wound they were sure to assume the worst, "We can't take him in, they're gonna assume this was us."

"He'll die laddie," Chibs said sadly, his back was turned to them, "This wound'le get infected, and he's lost too much blood." Jax only shook his head. The other two stayed quiet, both refusing to go against the words of their leader.

"You can treat him right? You helped before with the-" Chibs cut him off.

"There ain't time for that! If we don't git him somewhere soon he'll be dead! We can figure out the rest later!" Jax said nothing, just glared back at the man. The silence was interrupted by the sound of Juice coughing.

Jax never said another word, just nodded quickly and moved to get on his bike. Happy followed behind him, leaving Tig to run frantically to the driver side of the van. He fumbled with the keys for a moment, turning them hastily in the ignition. His hands shook at the wheel as he felt the engine roar to life.

Then they were speeding down the winding, muddy road in the darkness of the night. Chibs a mess as he muttered and pleaded with himself, Juice staring emptily up at the ceiling of the van. He barely felt the touch there. It was so ironic, how he had wanted this all along. He'd silently begged him for comfort over the past couple months. But at this price, he never would have asked for it. Because now, those tears for him and that soothing touch only felt cold and dead on his skin.

It hardly mattered now.

He cried. Felt the tears sliding down his blood caked cheeks, and they felt cold too. Cried because that look in Chib's eyes was something he could almost mistake for love. And he was sure he would die far before he could ever find out whether or not he had fooled himself.

Chibs leaned down, and placed his forehead against his own. He didn't shiver at the touch, because he was sure he couldn't even feel it. Like he couldn't feel the pain in his back anymore, or the swelling in his fingertips.

He saw Chib's lips move, but never heard the words. His head was foggy, and the world around him was barely there. He couldn't feel the kiss Chib's placed upon his forehead, or hear the few words he muttered to him.

He was sure he imagined them.

Because there was no way someone could love someone as messed up as he was.

Or atleast, that was what he told himself before he let his eyes close.


	6. Blood

_"Weep for yourself, my man,_  
You'll never be what is in your heart  
Weep, little lion man,  
You're not as brave as you were at the start" 

Somewhere down the winding road of passing street signs and blaring headlights his eyes close. His consciousness begins to fade away, leaving nothing behind but the stench of his own blood in his nostrils. Chibs watches in horror as the boys eyes flutter open slowly before shutting again. Something inside him panics, because that skin is too pale, and that heartbeat seems so horribly weak…

"I don't know how much longer he's going to hold on," he growls at Tig, frustrated even though he knows the man is driving as fast as he can. They round a corner sharply, and Chibs struggles to keep from sliding around in the back of the van, "drive faster." Tig's silent, but his hands are shaking at the wheel and he barely avoids a collision with a road sign as he speeds down the highway. He'd thankful that there at not many cars out due to it being so late at night. He practically slams on the brakes as they pull up beside the emergency entrance to the small city hospital. Chibs curses in the back as he holds on to Juice to keep him from sliding out of his grip.

Jax and Happy, having arrived earlier than they have, stood outside beside two people dressed in blue hospital gear, both with worried looks on their faces. Tig swears he sees Jax shake his head as they pull up. He doesn't blame him. They all know what this means. And as the backdoor to the van flies open and people are rushing in, shouting, they all feel the fear of their actions. For a moment Tig swears Chibs isn't going to let the boy go, because he yells as they take him from him, leaving the man sitting in a pool of blood in the van floor. He watches with sad eyes as they hoist the lifeless looking body onto the hospital gurney they've wheeled beside the van. And in just another moment he's gone. They're racing him inside the building, leaving all of them to watch as they go, stunned and silent.

Chibs just sits there for a long moment, looking down at the blood on his shaking hands. Then there's another doctor, placing her hand on his shoulder, asking him a calm voice if he has been hurt. He shakes his head slowly, eyes never leaving those bloody hands. His stomach twists.  
\---

They wait in a room that is too white and too quiet for comfort. Jax leans forward in his chair, head buried in his hands. Tig sits uncomfortably across from him and watches as Chibs paces the floor. Hands still bloodied in his pockets. They'd volunteered to clean him up but he'd pushed everyone away.

"They're going to call the cops," Jax sighs quietly. They've all known this, but none of them had the nerve to bring up the issue, "They'll see that gunshot….we're fucked."

"He would have fucking died," Chibs growled, and Tig realized his worried pacing had stopped. He saw that glare on his face, one that so dangerously tested Jax's authority. There was no mistaking the amount of tension in the room, raw and uncontrollable. He shifted in his seat, obviously uncomfortable. His brain couldn't help but shift back to the conversation he had had with Juice before he'd went off to find the others. He realized that the longer he sat in this chair, the more certain he was Margaret would be calling the cops right now. Because bringing in someone that had been shot days ago and brutally raped made them all look like criminals.

"Yeah, and so what?" Jax yelling snapped him back to the situation at hand, "I've about had it with all of the trouble he'd caused."

"None of this was directly Juice's fault." Chibs practically yelled at him. Tig just watched silently, analyzing how much of a mess he truly was. There was this look on his face that almost made him feel sick. One so full of fear and anxiety. His eyes shifted to Jax and he saw none of that there. Only annoyance and what looked to be exhaustion in those dark blue eyes.

He got up suddenly and mumbled an excuse that was never heard above their arguing. He could still hear them behind him as he walked off, yelling and cursing at each other. Chibs in his accent that always became thicker when he grew angry, and Jax so tired and fed up that he'd say whatever was on his mind without thinking.

Finding Margaret was relatively easier than he had expected, because the moment he rounded the corner he practically ran right into her. His mind began to race and he fidgeted, obviously uncomfortable. She brushed it off and moved to walk right past him, probably about to head out to update them on Juice's condition. Panicked, he moved to stop her.

"Look doc there's something I gotta talk to you about in private please," The look she gave him was one so full of confusion, but she stopped in her tracks, and turned to face him. Arms crossed over her chest, she gave him a look that practically stole the words from his mouth. He fumbled, the words catching in his throat.

"What? You want to confess to what happened to your friend here?" He wanted to punch that accusing look right off of her face. But he really shouldn't have blamed her. She knew exactly what they were, and he couldn't deny that bringing him in here didn't make the club look any better. They'd brought this woman so many of their problems…

"I had nothing to fucking do with that," he got in her face a little bit, she took a step back and he realized how badly he needed to try and relax, "No there's something about his um…condition I guess…" She raised an eyebrow and he fumbled for the right words. This entire situation was one that made him feel so uncomfortable, but he knew if Juice figured out he didn't keep his word he'd have a world of trouble later.

"Like the fact that he's obviously been raped." She said the words for him, and it completely caught him off guard. He stared at her, obviously startled by her words, "I'm going to have to call the sheriff so he can come down here and get a statement when he'd gained consciousness." Those words made him panic. Because she was reacting exactly opposite of what he had wanted. Instinctively he grabbed her arm, trying to pull her away from whatever it was she planned on doing.

It would only cause trouble.

"No," She tore away from him, "He doesn't want anyone to know."

"You realize what you're saying right? If I can't get a statement we won't have any way of figuring out who did this to him…."

"I know exactly what I'm saying, just do whatever it is you do, but don't tell anyone about that. I'm the only one who knows. Kid begged me not to tell anyone else. Isn't there something like doctor patient confidentially or some shit?" She only shook her hand, clearly disturbed from what he was asking.

"You're trying to cover up something aren't you." She said frantically, "This is completely wrong. When he wakes up he's going to need some sort of closure. If he can't talk about what happened to him it's going to destroy him. I've seen this a million times" Juice's mental condition was hardly a concern of his, but he knew that protecting the club meant keeping whatever information he could from the cops. If they figured out if was Dion who did this to him and he ended up dead a couple days later…it would only make them look incredibly guilty.

"Look lady it's what he wants. And if you knew anything you'd realize those people you wanted to spill this to aren't exactly of the understanding type. They're not gonna give two shits if he's been violated or whatever. He'll never talk to anyone anyways."

His words were followed with silence, and her eyes strayed to the tile on the floors. She looked clearly upset, but he was sure she wouldn't say a word. Both of them knew he was right. Jax certainly wouldn't care if she told him what happened anyways. This way he could go on acting as though nothing truly damning had ever happened. This way was better for all of them really. She shook her head slowly before letting out a long sigh.

"I won't tell them what happened. But I'm still required to call the police about this. And I'll need to hear from him when he wakes up that he doesn't want to make a statement, so really your word isn't going to do any good." She regained her usual composure, her face hardened, "so get back in there with your club and I'll inform you of his condition after I make some phone calls."

He turned quickly and walked back to the room, having no energy left to argue. He practically collapsed in his chair.

The hours crept by, or at least it felt that way. When Margaret finally entered the waiting room they were all eager for some news. She eyed them suspiciously, mentally sighing at the desperate look on Tig's face and the obvious pain written all over the face of the man still pacing the floor. Chibs felt like his heart was pounding in his chest, he watched her anxiously.

"He's stable now." She explained to them, and watched as Chibs practically collapsed in the chair next to Tig. He felt overwhelmed with relief, and suddenly he realized just how tired his body truly was. He'd blocked everything out once they had entered this room. His mind he not been able to leave the images of that boy bleeding out in his hands. Now that he knew he was going to be all right he felt like he could finally breathe again.

"He's going to be very bruised and sore for a while though," Margaret couldn't help but notice the way Tig was hung up on every word she said, watching desperately as her lips moved, "But he's going to be okay. We'll have to hold him here for a couples of days to make sure that gun wound heals all right."

"When can we see him?" The shaking in Chibs voice almost broke her heart.

"He's conscious now but I'm not letting anyone in until after he talks to Eli. Unless someone here wants to explain what happened to him." She raised an eyebrow to Tig, who shot her a dark glare back. They all sat in silence for a moment before she let out a long sigh. It should have been obvious that none of them would talk, they never did, despite how much it frustrated her.

"Allright then you'll all have to wait longer, and I hope for Mr Ortiz's sake that you'll show a little bit more common sense when I do decide to let you speak with him." With that she turned on her heels and stormed out of the waiting room.  
\---

Waking up was an entirely too slow process. His eyelids felt so heavy, and if he would have been able to see his own reflection he would have realized it was from the purple bruises swelling around his skin. There was a pain in his head too, almost like a numbing fog. The colors of the room came to him slowly, and it took him awhile to realize that he was truly awake. His body felt almost entirely numb, except for a dull pain in his shoulder and the soreness in his bones. There was no feeling in his hands at all…

The fabric beneath him was soft and warm, and he realized slowly that he was lying in a hospital bed, covered in white blankets and wrapped tightly in bandages. They'd propped him up a little bit, and he was able to look around the brightly lit room. He frowned when he realized it was empty, because he vaguely remembered Chibs being with him before he'd blacked out…there was no one here now. Maybe they knew….fuck maybe Chibs didn't want anything to do with him. Sadly he knew he'd never be able to blame him. He was sure he looked horrible. His body certainly felt that way.

The opening of the door startled him, and he couldn't help but get his hopes up for a moment that the person coming in was who his mind had been on. But he was only disappointed as the sheriff and Margaret stumbled slowly in to the room. Neither were faces he was interested in seeing. In fact he wasn't actually sure he felt like speaking with anyone right now, and the sight of Eli just made him angry.

He turned his head, unable to make eye contact. The humming of the machines behind him made him realize everything he was hooked up to. Moving was almost impossible. There were tubes going into his arms, creeping beneath the freshly wrapped bandages. A white cleanness that covered the dirty bruises he was sure were underneath. Bruises he never wanted to see. He winced at the images that played back in his head, reminding him of the days before. Images he knew he was never going to be able to escape.

"Juan Carlos, "Eli's voice snapped him back into reality, and he turned to face him with scared brown eyes, "I just need you to explain what happened and we'll leave you alone." The man tried to soften his voice the moment he saw that sad, broken look on the boy's face. It was obvious that he still did not feel safe, despite that fact that no one was going to hurt him here.

"You're not in any trouble," Juice just stared straight at him, and the emptiness in that swollen face made him feel guilty, "I just need you to tell me if you know who did this." Juice looked at him for a long time. His throat felt so swore, he wasn't sure if he would even make a sound if he opened his mouth to speak. Opening his mouth only reminded him of all the times he'd spat up his own blood, and before he really realized it he felt himself shaking.

"I…I-" he barely managed to croak out the words, and he knew they must have sounded so pathetic, "I don't need your help." He managed to get out the only point he knew was truly important. Because there was no way Eli could help him. After all it was the justice system that had allowed those criminals back on the streets in the first place. He was sure the club would deal with them or he would do it himself, but he wanted no help from anyone else. Putting them back behind bars would never be enough.

He saw the disappointment on Eli's face as the man shook his head. He recognized the woman next to him as the one who had always been following Tara around here. Her boss, if he remembered correctly. She had a sympathetic look that almost made him feel sick. But even worse it made him feel like a victim.

Because he didn't want to feel the shame that came along with that word. Denying it was the only way he felt like he was ever going to heal from this.

"Juice you know what happens if you try to handle this on your own." He felt his body physically shaking, and tears threatening to burn down his cheeks. He bit his lower lip, trying to keep them back, trying to keep from hating himself even more than he already did.

"This is none of your business, I don't owe you a damn word," He spat out the words, "Leave me the fuck alone." His voice sounded so horribly pathetic. He despised himself. Eli took a step forward, and it scared him more than it should have. He shrunk back against the hospital bed.

"Look I understand-" Those words made him so angry, almost more than that look of pity all over the mans face.

"You will never fucking understand. Get the hell out."  
\---

They stood by the door as Eli and Margaret came storming out. The sheriff pushed past them angrily, cursing and grumbling. Margaret blocked them from the door.

"He needs to rest. I'll give you five minutes and if either one of you says anything insensitive I swear to god."

"Just let us see him please." She blinked a couple of times, confused. She had expected them to yell or force their way through, but the tired look on their faces almost made her almost feel guilty. Chibs looked nearly twice his age, his face dark with worry. So she stepped to the side, and allowed them to walk into the room before letting the door close behind them.

"How're you feeling Juicey-boy?" Chibs tried to laugh, tried to act like his heart was pounding in his chest. Tig and Happy were at his sides, both with sympathetic looks on their faces. Jax was long gone. He'd left earlier, grumbling about how he had a family at home waiting for him. No one had dared stand in his way. It didn't surprise anyone of them. Everyone knew of the obvious tension between the two. Tig and Happy had both shared his feelings until now, seeing him like this made their anger seem far too heartless.

Juice just stared at the three of them, confused. Part of him had expected to be relieved to see all of them, they were the closest thing he had to a family after all. But their presence brought him little comfort, and as he opened his mouth he realized he had nothing to say to them. Not even Chibs, the one who had so much concern on his face. He couldn't remember the words he had spoken in the van, in fact he couldn't remember much of anything right now.

He looked at them and just felt so empty. So void of any emotions. There was no part of him that wanted to share with them the experience he had. Expecting them to understand would have been so naïve. Something about that look on Chibs face made him feel like he couldn't breathe. He used to never be able to keep his eyes off him, but at this moment he could barely stand to look at him.

"Fine." Was all he managed to get out. It was such an obvious lie, he was still shaking from speaking with Eli, and he knew they could all see it. He was sure he had the most pathetic look on his face. All swollen and bruised.

Before he knew it Chibs was beside him, and he moved his hand to touch his cheek. He drew back instantly, ignoring the obvious look of hurt on the older man's face. He didn't know after all, and he would never know. Why he couldn't trust his touch. Why he felt like he couldn't trust anyone anymore.

"Just tired." He remembered last time he was in the hospital. He'd been all smiles and jokes then, but now that seemed like a completely different person. Lightening the situation felt impossible, and he didn't even try. Just sat there, miserable and sad, wanting so badly to be comforted and held, while hating the idea of being touched at the same time. He caught Tig's stare out of the corner of his eye. Saw the look of pity there.

And despised it.

"Oh well we should be leavin soon anyhow. Get some rest laddie." There was an obvious hint of hurt in those words, but much to his relief the older man took a step back. He felt his stomach twist when he watched them leave. The door closed quietly behind them, and he didn't realize he was crying until after he looked down and noticed the tears soaking into the white sheets. Part of him craved comfort so badly. He wanted to be in that man's arms, where he knew he was safe and wanted. But that person was gone now, pushed away by his own shame. He tried to tell himself it would be better this way.

Because he needed to be alone.

This was a burden he could never share with anyone.

So he laid there, alone in his room, crying until he felt so drained that sleep overtook him. While Chibs and Tig still sat quietly outside the waiting room. Both physically and emotionally exhausted, and yet they stayed. One still in shock from the ordeals of the night. The other sick to death with worry.

Both with his blood all over their hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is was one of my favorite chapters. Mostly because I thought about it for what felt like forever before attempting to get it down, and when I did it turned out exactly how I wanted. I feel like part of this whole thing developed from me watching way too much Law and Order SVU...but whatever, haha thanks for reading!


	7. Venom

Coming back felt harder than it should have. Because despite what had happened to him, they all treated him the same. Honestly it was foolish to expect anything else. But in the back of his head he remembered all the celebrations and warmth there had been when anyone else came back from the hospital…He tried to shake it off.  
Behind him Chibs and Gemma entered the clubhouse. They had both arrived at the hospital earlier that morning, eager to get him home. He couldn’t remember how many days he had been there, it felt like an eternity. Prying eyes and a million questions were enough to make him feel sicker than he had when he’d been admitted. Well, not quite. His shoulder was wrapped in a thick amount of gauze and bandages, and most of the bruises and cuts were healing. 

The wounds on the surface he knew would heal in their own time, it was the ones beneath he couldn’t escape. 

The clubhouse made him feel small, or maybe it was the glares he received. The building smelt of sawdust and paint, and he could see clearly where the bullet holes had been patched up. It sent a shiver down his spine and bombarded his head with images he would have given anything to forget. 

Tig and Happy were both sitting on the clubhouse floor, helping Abel build a tower out of some brightly colored blocks. Like nothing bad had happened, it almost hurt. Because he couldn’t step away from this like everything was the same, and he envied them. He felt their eyes on him as he stepped into the main room, a mess of bandages and bruises. There were dark, black circles beneath his eyes, a product of his broken nose. There was no denying he looked horrible, and they did nothing to hide their obvious stares.  
That was the moment he came to the conclusion that he couldn’t handle this. Part of him wanted to turn and walk out, because their lack of care and concern was growing exhausting. Instead he just stood there for a moment, inwardly battling with himself while Abel giggled in the background.

“Hey laddie everythin allright?” Chibs placed a hand on his shoulder and he brushed him off quickly. He shivered at the touch.

Chibs had been at his side ever since he got out, constantly hovering over him, asking him if he needed anything or if he was allright. The car ride to the clubhouse had been nothing but questions ever couple of minutes to break the awkward silence. He’d received a couple concerned looks from Gemma, but she had said nothing, just gave him a hug when they came to pick him up. 

He was here to collect his things, because Gemma and Chibs had both insisted he take some down time to rest and cooperate. The others watched as he pushed away from Chibs, and limped awkwardly down the hall. He could still feel those eyes upon him, burning into his being. 

He hated it.

The hallway to his room reeked of heavy cleaning supplies, and it was obvious that the floor had been scrubbed clean. There were no traces of blood or bullets anymore. The walls had been repatched. The door to his room, which had been kicked in the night of the attack, was fixed and new. He opened it slowly, taking in a breath of air before entering the room. Everything was different, his bed had been made, and the usually dirty floor was cleaned. An obvious attempt to make it look as though nothing had happened. 

But he knew better. 

The clothes he’d left scattered around the floor he found clean and folded neatly in the drawers of the smaller dresser he’d never used. His bag was hanging up on the wall beside it, he grabbed it and began shoving some of the clothes into it. There was no telling how long he would gone, so he packed whatever he could. He flinched as he opened the drawers, the pain in his shoulder beginning to burn. 

Everything hurt to move. His face was swollen and bruised, he’d never looked in any mirrors, but he could feel the wounds. He knew all too well that they were there. His hands hurt so bad .He assumed it was due to lack of proper circulation, and his fingers and arms were covered with dark, purple bruises.  
Grabbing his laptop from the desk was the last thing he did before he closed the door slowly behind him, and tried his best to act as though nothing was wrong. But there was a faint whimper under his breath as he trudged on, tired and aching. 

There was little warmth here, but then again he had expected as much. Walking back into the main room he spotted Jax, strung out on the couch, staring up at the ceiling blankly. Part of him prayed the man would not acknowledge him, because he was unsure of what he would say. It was obvious that he had been left with his attackers for days. And judging by that dark look on Jax’s face he knew why. To teach him a lesson.  
“Hey,” He stopped dead in his tracks as he head Jax getting up from the couch, “We gotta talk for a second.” The world stopped moving, and his brown eyes stared down sadly at the floor. But he nodded as the blond approached him. He placed an arm on the shoulder, drawing him closer to him. It took everything not to break away from his grasp. That hand on his shoulder had his mind screaming. Jax’s touch was not one he trusted, especially not now. But the man forced him so that their faces were practically touching, and he could feel his hot breath on his cheeks. Those dark eyes pierced into his own, and he shivered.  
“We’re gonna give you some time to get past all this.” He nodded, but there was a darker tone to his voice that suggested there was more to come, “But if I ever need your for anything your ass is still mine. If I give you a call, I don’t give a shit how much pain you’re in. If the club needs you, you are gonna be there or else you’re done.” The worlds sounded so cruel on his lips, but he was far too tired to argue. They would never know what he went through, he reminded himself of that. He couldn’t expect anyone to pardon him.  
“Yeah sure,” He tried to smile, but the words sounded pathetic on his lips. Their eyes locked for a moment before Jax leaned in, bringing his head down so he could brush his lips against his forehead. The movement made him tremble. 

Then with a pat on the back he was gone, leaving his heart pounding and his lungs begging for breath. His legs felt weak underneath him, and it took him a long while before he realized he’d been standing there like an idiot. And Chibs was eying him suspiciously. He nearly jumped out of his skin when the man walked up beside him, gesturing to take his things from his arms. 

“Come on laddie, let’s get ya home” He nodded as they walked out the door. Never once did he look back, just flinched as he heard the door slamming shut behind them. Leaving behind their judgmental glares and hypocritical agendas, something he would not miss. 

Chibs was being painfully nice, and if he hadn’t been so uncomfortable in his own skin he would have eaten up all that attention. Would have been all over it. He knew this was wrong, because he was supposed to love it. But instead he found himself brushing Chibs aside, doing his best to stay out of his way. It was obvious there was confusion there, but Chibs never questioned him, only held the car door open for him and loaded his belongings into the back seat.

He never thanked him. And there was nothing but silence as the car engine roared and they were headed out of the Teller Morrow lot. He didn’t even bother to watch the building disappear behind him, there was too much bitterness there. He leaned against the cool glass of the car window, and watched as the buildings flew by in a blur.  
“You doin allright there Juicey?” The concern in that voice was painfully obvious.

“Yeah. Where are we going?” They had already passed the turn he usually took to get to his apartment. 

“Yere stayin at my place for awhile. Gonna need someone to make sure yer doin allright.” He was too tired to argue, but part of him just wanted so badly to be alone. So he could cry and sob and get out all the emotions that were swimming around in his head. Making him dizzy and sick. 

“Thanks.” Was all he could mumble. 

Chibs apartment turned out to be far from what he expected. Walking in the place was fairly nice, and surprisingly clean. But he couldn’t help but notice the emptiness. It almost reminded him of home, considering the fact that his own place was the same. Neither one spent much time at home, so there was never any reason to make the place more comfortable. It was just somewhere to go to every once and awhile.

Chibs brushed past him, carrying his things into the small room located in the hallway behind the open kitchen area. Slowly he followed him, still taking in his surroundings. The walls were bare, no pictures of his wife or daughter could be found. 

“You can stay in my room, I spend most of my nights on the couch anyways.” He set his bag down on the bed and stood there for a moment, his voice sounded sad.  
“I don’t sleep much at all anymore.” The words were quiet, but he understood every one.

“Me neither,” he mumbled, “I’m tired.” Chibs nodded and excused himself. He stepped aside as he walked out the doorway, leaving him alone. He closed his eyes, resisting the part of him that wanted so badly to reach out and touch that person. To feel comfort and calm. He shivered, and forced himself to close the door. 

His eyes moved around the room, which had the same clean and boring tone as the others. Nothing looked as though it had been touched in quite a while. He grabbed the bag with his better arm and threw it on the floor before struggling to rip off his sweaty shirt and collapsing on the bed.

He laid there in bed, sweaty body tangled up in the sheets, unable to drift to sleep. His mind kept racing, images kept playing over and over in his head, and he found himself staring blankly at the ceiling. His body felt so horribly exhausted, but his eyes refused to give way to sleep. The sheets smelled so much like Chibs, it made him feel even more lonely. Because he was here completely alone, and all he wanted to do was seek out the companionship his body longed for. Shame and regret kept him glued to the spot. The entire situation was painfully eye opening, because he began to realize that going to Chibs for help was not the answer, despite how many times he had done it before.

Because Chibs would not understand this. He could see the way he limped around and winced at every touch, but he knew he would never question it. From the other room he could practically hear the man cough as he smoked. He knew he was sitting at the table smoking quietly, probably trying to wrap his head around the past few days. 

God knows that was all he tried to do nowadays. 

There was part of him that would never understand how he managed the strength to lift himself out of bed. For a moment he almost lost his balance, and his stomach felt sick and dizzy. He stood at the foot of the bed for a moment. He stared down at himself for a moment, eyeing the ugly bruises that snaked across his stomach and hips. Part of him debated putting on a shirt, but that didn’t really matter right now. 

His heart beat was racing as he opened the door and stormed into the kitchen. He tried to convince himself his mind was made up. That he would spill everything at this moment. As he took those steps he tried to convince himself this was what Chibs would want. Because he remembered how angry he had been when he had kept him in the dark about Rico.

So he would tell him. Get these horrible thoughts off of his chest.

But as he entered the kitchen and looked into the eyes of the figure sitting at the table, he stopped dead in his tracks. Chibs had his feet propped up on the table, and a lit cigarette in his fingers. He eyed him darkly, eyes tired and desolate looking. He tried not to eye those marks around his waist, but he couldn’t deny the suspicions they caused. Those were not from him, he was sure of that much. He’d never gotten that far. 

He reminded himself quietly that he never would. 

Because having feelings for this boy were far too dangerous.

“What’s got ya up laddie? Go back to sleep.” He nearly laughed the words, because that deer in the headlights look on Juice’s face was almost cute. Despite the bandages around his broken nose or the bleeding, bruised lips. He shivered, feeling guilty for thinking of him in that manner. He took a drag from his cigarette as he watched Juice sit down at the opposite side of the table.

He opened his mouth to speak, but that judging glare on Chibs face stole the words form his mouth. So he just sat there uncomfortably, laying his arms out on the table. He eyed the wood for a long time, wracking his brain for the words he wanted. He stared down at his awkward and bruised hands and suddenly he felt as though he was going to lose it. Like tears were burning into his eyes, and he couldn’t control himself. Because he needed to cry about this. Even though he’d already done it so many times his eyes were sore from crying. It would never be enough.

“I just wanted to talk I guess…about what happened.” His heart sank as he watched Chibs shake his head.

“Ya need rest boy, and im hardly in the mood for a little heart to heart.” He had never intended for his words to sound cruel, but he watched juice flinch at the words and immediately regretted them. 

“Not about all that, I meant about what happened before we got raided…I meant that-“ He was stammering out the words, and Chibs cut him off. 

“No.” Chibs raised his voice a little bit and it sent his heart racing. He shouldn’t have been so scared by one simple word, but that angry look on Chibs face made him regret everything immediately. He wanted to run, but his body was glued to the spot. Those dark eyes, they wouldn’t leave his gaze.

“We ain’t gonna talk bout what happened Laddie. We damn near saved ya from dying. An you come back and want to talk about how I almost got in yer fucking pants? That’s pretty fuckin messed up.” His face was burning with rage. And he opened his mouth to speak, felt his hands trembling at his sides.

Because Chibs was making him feel like an idiot. He didn’t understand at all, this whole thing felt cold and cruel. The man had just offered him a place to stay, but he wasn’t interested in him at all? It made no sense. He wracked his brain for a reason why, but only found himself feeling more and more sick.

“That’s not what I-“ At this point he just wanted him to stop, because his heart honestly couldn’t take it. Not right now. Chibs was verifying everything he felt about himself. Those eyes made him feel so dirty. 

His heart hurt. 

But he didn’t stop there.

“You think me getting drunk and trying to take advantage of ya means anything? You know how many people I’ve fucked around with right? It don’t mean nothin’ boy. Yer here because no one else in that clubhouse gives a damn, and I felt bad for you, because you have this stupid little look on your face that screams you’ve been wronged by the world. We’ve all that bad shit happen to us. You hold yer head up and you get over it.”

He felt the hot tears in his eyes, and couldn’t stop them. 

“You’ve got a pretty little face that’s all beaten up and bruised. What did you think you were gonna do? Did you think I’d find that attractive?” Rage filled him. His he could feel his arms trembling at his sides, and suddenly he sprang up from the table, slamming his fist down against the wood. He gritted his teeth as pain shot up his arm. He looked into the eyes of the same man who had offered him kindness days ago, and held in him in his arms as he bled. He was sure he did not make up those images, he knew Chibs had been there for him. He remembered his tears and that devastated look on his old face. 

Those images were burned in his mind. He refused to believe it was all something he had made up. 

“You’re just an old fucking bastard.” He leaned against the table, so that he was practically in his face. The way the edge of the table dug into his hips made him wince. Chibs never moved, just sat there quietly, eyes boring into his own. His heart beat thundered in his ears, loud and drowning. That was the moment he pushed past the screaming in his head, and his urge to run. That was the moment he leaned down, grabbed the Scot was his neck and forced his lips to his own. Drawing the smoke into his own lungs. 

He withdrew, panting, eyes staring at the one person he needed so badly at this moment. Because he needed to feel the touch of someone that didn’t have the intent to hurt, or abuse. He needed so badly to feel as though someone still wanted him, despite how shameful and disgusting those bruises made him feel. 

“I need you,” The words sounded so pathetic, and he practically whimpered them. Hands were pulling at the fabric of Chibs cut, begging him to come close. Pleading for him to wrap him up in arms that he knew were safe. Despite those words he had said, he knew there was something else there. 

There had to be or else he was going to go insane. 

So he watched eagerly as Chibs put out the cigarette he’d be been holding on the wood of the kitchen table, and sat up in then his chair. Then just like before he was being bombarded with that same rage and desire he had remembered from before. Chibs shoved him back against the fridge and he groaned from the pain that shot up his back. But there were lips at his own, forcing the pain to the back of his mind. He kissed him back, but he could feel his legs trembling underneath him, weak and exhausted. Chibs fingers curled underneath his jaw, wrapping around his neck, and he gasped for breath, eyes wide with terror. Images flashed through his head, and he could remember all those feelings of unwelcome hands on his body. Bruising flesh and tearing skin. 

Another kiss and he remembered his face slamming against the concrete, and the blood that had seemed to flow out of his body. His head was spinning, and he could hear his own whimpers under the pants between their breaths. Chibs pushed his hips against his own and he felt his body buckling underneath him. Suddenly he was trapped, and his mind was filled with terror. He gasped for air, but none entered his lungs, and before he knew it he was panicking. Anxiety overwhelmed him and he forced himself free, shoving his bruised hands against Chibs chest. 

He turned so quickly on his feet that he hardly realized he had tripped until he was on the tiled floor. Trembling and sobbing, bruised body once again alive with pain. There were arms over him almost immediately, clutching the panic-struck boy to his chest. He let him sob into his cut, and felt the tremors that coursed through his body and he lay on the kitchen floor. 

“What did I do wrong?” Juice hardly heard his voice above the sound of his crying. Chibs held tight to him. All the anger he had felt earlier from Juice being distant had far subsided. It was only replaced with concern and guilt. Because he was constantly letting his mouth get the better of him. This reminded him of that night they’d been out in the rain. And how despite everything that he felt he knew this could never work.

But he held him anyways, because he couldn’t convince himself to let go. Though he didn’t fully understand, he refused to leave this time around. 

“Hush how laddie, It’ll be allright.” Before he could think about what he was doing he was scooping up that trembling body in his arms and carrying him back to the bedroom. Juice never spoke a word, just cried until his eyes felt sore and raw. But he never left him. Just lay in bed bedside him, wrapping his arms around him as he sobbed, holding his shivering body close to his own. Neither one really understood the actions of the other. Chibs lay frustrated that he didn’t truly understand the extent of what the boy had went through. Juice lay devastated at the fact that he would never be able to confide in him, and probably never be able to trust him enough to get as close as he wanted to be.

But they remained together. Trying to draw some sort of sad comfort from the other. 

And even though the crying subsided quickly, and Juice was falling asleep.

He refused to let go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They both have very conflicted feelings about each other. I wanted to note that the only reason why Chibs reacted the way he did, is because he wants to believe that he's helping Juice because he's a friend. He's trying to deny the other feelings he has for him. Which of course doesn't end up working.


	8. The Bottom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Its been so long since I've written on this. But I recently reread it and decided I wanted to finish it. There's probably about four or five more chapters after this one. I still love these two characters so much. I'm anxiously awaiting the next season! Figured this would be a good distraction while I waited! Hope you guys enjoy!The lyrics are from Hollywood undead

_"I fuckin' swear that I care_  
but its hard when you stare  
into the bottom of a bottle  
that is empty and bare  
all my desolate soul  
in my desolate home  
it's my desolate role  
yeah I'm here all alone" 

He coughs from the smoke. It's been nearly a week, and he still shivers when he coughs. Still remembers the chokes and gasp for air as he bleed out on the cold cement floor. It brings a dark frown to his face, and he takes another drag of his blunt. Trying to block out those horrible images from his head. Being high out of his mind almost helps.

Part of him wants to laugh.

Because in his lifetime there has been so much death and blood. It never made him this bitter. Never made him drink or smoke this much before. Or maybe that was just the alcohol keeping him from seeing things clearly. Honestly, he wasn't sure anymore. He'd been here so long, he couldn't remember when the water had turned cold.

A puff of smoke escaped from his lips and he watched it disappearing in the air in front of him. His eyes trailed over his body, his pale, sickly looking skin. Under the waters surface he could see those ugly, dark bruises and scars. Snaking down his legs. He couldn't see the ones on his neck but he knew they were there, Chibs reminded him of that every time caught his eyes staring. He couldn't say he blamed him. It was hard to ignore after all.

He flinched when he thought of Chibs.

The one person who was always on his mind these days, but never anywhere else. The man kept his distance from him ever since that night he'd brought him here. The night he'd been reduced to a sobbing mess on the kitchen floor. It was frustrating, but he had long given up on trying to get his attention. There had been a time when he'd truly missed his touch. That night He'd stayed up listening to the sounds of his breathing, hanging on every word he mumbled in his sleep that he never understood.

But now he was just bitter.

Now he was just drunk and pissed off. Most of his days had become like this. It had dawned on him once or twice that he should have started attending the meeting at the chapel again. Because he was well enough physically to be back in with the club. But there was no desire to be there. They didn't matter much anymore. He was sure Jax would call on him soon, hell bent on forcing him to do any menial task he felt was a good enough punishment for his previous actions.

The water splashed as he sat up and fumbled around the edge of the tub, looking for the bottle of whiskey he'd set beside it. When his fingers reached it he brought it to his lips, loving the burning of the alcohol down his throat. He swallowed so much of it he was choking when he drew the bottle away from his lips. Loves how it's the only thing he really feels anymore.

He misses being touched. Misses the warm feelings of strong arms around him, and the soothing, thick accent that whispers to him telling him everything will be allright. And for a moment it had been. But when those arms were gone he felt nothing but a dark, emptiness. He heard the door open slowly, and didn't bother to look up as it creaked.

He heard Chibs sigh as he entered the room. Tired probably, thought he had no idea what time of the day it was. Recently he'd paid little attention to anything but his own thoughts. The rest didn't seem to matter much. Nothing made him feel better anymore.

"How long ave you fuckin been in here?" His eyes trail across the bathroom floor and stop when he sees Chibs boots, dirty and muddy. He looks up, and frowns at the disapproving look on the man's tired face.

"Leave me alone," The anger in his words surprises even himself. But much to his dismay he hears Chibs footsteps as he storms into the bathroom. This is what their relationship had been reduced to. Both were clearly frustrated with the other. Chibs wanted him to confide in him, but he never would. And Juice just wanted to be left alone. But the other was never willing. That night he had broken down in the kitchen had been the last time he'd been willing to open up to anyone.

He didn't know how to deal with it. Wasn't used to someone constantly wondering if he was allright. So he tried to shut him out. That felt easier.

"No, Jax wants us both in church this evening. Sent me here to get you." Juice only shakes his head. But before he has time to reach Chibs is grabbing at him, reaching under his arms and forcing him to his feet. Water splashes around them, and he resists the desperate urge to struggle, and escape. He's overwhelmed with anxiety, and struggles in Chib's gasp. The man curses behind him.

He lets him go, and Juice loses his footing. He falls back against Chibs, sending both of them crashing to the floor. They collide with the tiles, both wet and aggravated. He lies there for a moment, listening to the way Chib curses and grumbles as he tries to stand up. The room is spinning, and for a moment he regrets how much whiskey he'd been drinking. Was the bottle empty? He couldn't remember anymore.

Chibs stands up quickly, glaring down at him, he's dirty clothes down soaked, much like the bathroom floor. Juice's brown eyes met his for a moment, bloodshot and tired.

"What the hell's gotten in ya?!" He growls at him. That's the moment he realizes the almost empty bottle, and the ash tray sitting on the side of the tub. He shakes his head, clearly frustrated, and Juice says nothing. Only looks up at him, sad and ashamed. With eyes that beg for help and a body that constantly pushes him away. For a moment Juice sees that rage in his eyes and he half expects him to lash out at him.

But he never does. Just lets out a long sigh before exiting the room. Juice bites his lower lip as he tries to sit up, groaning at the pain now burning in his side. He's sure that fall will probably leave a couple bruises. When Chibs comes back he's caring two neatly folded towels in his arms.

They don't make eye contact again. He simply sets the towels done next to the sink and leaves, closing the door behind him. Leaving Juice laying on the wet bathroom floor. Exposed and embarrassed, trying his best to get a hold of himself. But instead he finds himself staring at the door, knowing that Chibs will not be back. His patience is wearing thin, he's sure of it.

Sooner or later he's going to ask him to leave. And he sits up and does his best to dry off while ignoring the still prominent bruising, or his obvious weight loss. Never once looks in the mirror as he wraps one towels around his waist and tries to prepare himself for church.

The dark circles under his eyes, a product of his broken nose had all but completely healed. All that was left were a few scrapes and bruises on his face, and the lingering bruises that no one else would ever see. But under the gazes, he still felt vulnerable, and he couldn't meet their eyes. He knew what he looked like, he didn't need anyone else reminding him of the mess he her become.

He looked down at the carved table instead, and tried to keep his hands from trembling against the wood. Being in the clubhouse brought back memories that plagued his mind. His eyes fell on Chibs, and suddenly he remembered him screaming, and the gunshot that had cut through the room like a knife. Flinched as he remembered the cold of the gun against his skin.

"Juice?!" Jax's snapped at him. It took him a moment to realize he had spaced out during church, and he'd hardly heard a word since he got here, "what's your vote?" The anger in his voice was unmistakable and he looked at Chibs desperately. He hadn't even known what they were talking about. But Chibs nodded, so he said yes. It didn't matter much anyways.

"Then it's settled. We'll open by shop in Stockton soon!" There was clapping and hollering all around him. His eyes scanned the faces of the other members. Trying to get a grasp on what they had just voted on. He knew nothing of what was going on in Stockton. Obviously it must have been something taking place while he was out. He wasn't sure what scared him more, the fact that he had so little knowledge on the clubs recent activities, or the fact that he didn't really care.

They all began to file out of the chapel, and he stood up slowly to leave. Noticed how Chibs stood quietly next to him, making sure he was allright before he turned to leave as well.

"Juice," He stopped dead in his tracks, "Stay." His eyes watched sadly as the others left the room quickly, leaving him alone with Jax. The one person he had done everything in his power to avoid. Despite the fact that he knew him coming here was long overdue. The tension in the room was almost suffocating. He sat back down in his seat, staring quietly at the wall, anxious to hear what Jax felt like he had to say to him.

"We're even now. " Those words made him feel sick to his stomach, "I didn't let you die because you're of use to me and this club. That is the only reason why you are still sitting here today."

"Haven't I been through enough man? When's this shit gonna end?" He dared to challenge him. But his words made Juice so angry he couldn't control himself. He could literally feel himself shaking in his seat, sweat dripping down his forehead. He was actually surprised to find some fight left in him, considering how tired he'd felt just this morning.

Maybe it was the alcohol still fresh in his system, but he couldn't control his emotions right now. Almost immediately he regretted it, seeing that dark look all over Jax's face.

"It ends when I say it does." Juice stared with wide eyes as he rose out of his chair, " If I told the people at this table what you had really done you would have received much worse."

He opened his mouth to protest, but stopped when he realized the suffocating truth in those words. As much as he hated Jax for allowing what had happened to take place, he was still at his mercy. No matter how much punishment ensued, he had no choice. They both knew he had no power here.

So he was forced to stand there and listen quietly as Jax reminded him of his betrayal and uselessness. He watched him spit out the venomous words, and began to question if it was truly all worth it. Because he could tell by the angry look on that man's face that there was no way he was ever going to forgive him.

It was in that moment that the familiar feeling of loneliness crept up on him. Just outside those dark colored doors stood people he had once considered his family. But now he was treated like an outsider. He couldn't confide in them if he wanted to. Even the comfort once offered by Chibs was slipping away.

The sensation with horrendously familiar. The usual sense of drowning and pain that came with realizing he was completely alone in the world. Something that had haunted him for years in the past before he found solace in the club.

"You stayed their captive because it was what I wanted." The words stung. They pulled him back to reality so fast it forced the breath right out of his lungs.

"Wha-what?" He uttered in disbelief, the words trembled on his lips, "I don't-"

"I learned of your location a couple hours after we got Chibs admitted." He said the words so calmly, it was sickening. The way he never lost composure, even when admitting to such disgusting behavior. Tears of rage were burning in his eyes, but he fought against them. The man in front of him now stood a monster in his eyes.

Something turned dark and sick by the actions of the club.

"Do you have any idea what they did to-"

He wanted to scream, but Jax's voice rose, cutting his words to pieces.

"I don't care. You stand here now because of me. Because I willed it. You belong to me, every part of you. That means you shut up and listen to what I have to say. You're a rat. Nothing you say or do matters to me."

He was storming out of the room before the venomous words reached his ears. The door swung open, and the members sitting in the adjacent room were instantly on their feet. The stared at him in shock as he tore through the room, slamming the door behind him. Tears of rage burned in his eyes, tears he didn't dare let fall until the clubhouse was behind far him.

His hands trembled as he reached his bike and prepared to leave. To escape those hurtful words. He didn't dare look back as the clubhouse faded behind him.

The scenery around him became nothing but a blur as he tore through it. His heart beat thundered loudly in his ears. Never once did he consider the consequences of his actions. His only thought was on escape.

Escaping the harsh reality that he had created for himself so long ago.


End file.
